Seeing that the possibility doesn't phase her upsets him. He walks past her out of the bathroom, jaw set while frustration burns in his guts.

Crossing to the desk he looks at the guns laying there, then turns back around to face her.

"Y'ever been shot, Kate?" There's an edge in his voice; he's trying so hard to make her see, make her understand.

"Y'ever had to lay there while your life spills out all over the damn floor? Y'dont' want that. I don't care how hard or screwed up you think your life is right now, you Don't. Want. That."